


A Flurry of Wincest

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bottom Dean, Fluff, Ice Skating, M/M, More tags later, Sickfic, Stripper AU, Swimming, Top Sam, Wincest - Freeform, Wincest AU - Freeform, wincest smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:25:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: A bunch of wincest one-shots, along with some other characters or ships. Enjoy!!





	1. Fever

      Sam knew something was up when Dean didn't take the pie he offered. He'd noticed something was off, but this had confirmed it. Sam sighed, setting the slice of pie on the table and dropping down into the seat next to him. Dean didn't look up from the book he was reading, and Sam didn't make him. He scanned Dean's face, looking for any sign as to what was going on with him. Then it clicked. The lack of appetite, the sleeping in, the laziness. 

      Sam reached over, pressing his hand to Dean's forehead. Sure enough, he had a fever. "Dean, why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Sam asked, letting his hand drop to the nape of Dean's neck. Dean finally looked up from the book, meeting Sam's worried hazel gaze. A sigh burst out of the older Winchester, and he slumped in his seat as if he had been holding himself up and couldn't do it anymore. Hell, he probably was. 

      "I didn't want you to worry. I was hoping it would just pass." Dean muttered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. Sam exhaled through his nose, standing up. Dean turned to look at him, squinting a little because the lights were bright. Sam didn't say anything, just reached his hand out. Dean took it, and Sam pulled him up before leading him to their shared bedroom. Sam laid him down, pulling the covers over him. 

       "What are you doing?" Dean asked, but sleep was tugging on his eyelids, and he knew he couldn't go anywhere even if he tried. Sam shushed him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm going to get you better, Dean." Sam murmured against Dean's feverish skin, before pulling away and meeting Dean's eyes. Dean gave a small smile, his eyelids growing heavy. He yawned, burrowing himself further into the blankets. 

       "I'm going to go get the medicine. Don't go to sleep just yet." 

       Dean mumbled something unintelligible, and Sam chuckled lightly before walking off to get the medicine. Dean closed his eyes, coughing into the covers. He groaned, his throat feeling like sandpaper. He really should have told Sam sooner. Dean sighed, his whole body hurting. He just wanted to sleep. He mentally told Sam to hurry up as he yawned yet again. It was only a few moments later when Dean heard the thumping of Sam's feet against the floor. Dean didn't open his eyes, not having enough energy to. 

        "Dean, you gotta drink the medicine." Sam's voice was soft. It made Dean want to sleep even more. He grunted and slowly, very slowly, opened his eyes. Sam was kneeling in front of him, holding up a small cup of thick liquid that Dean was meant to drink. Dean took it, quickly gulping it down before resting his head on the pillow again. Sam ran his fingers through Dean's hair, a smile tugging at his lips as he gazed at the love of his life. 

         "Sleep, Dean. I'll be here when you wake up." Sam whispered, and Dean let out a sigh. Dean fell asleep seconds later, his breathing even. Sam got up from the floor, walking to his side of the bed and laying down next to Dean. He reached over, grabbing his book off the nightstand and continuing where he left off. 

 

 

          The next time Dean woke up, Sam was there like he promised. Dean sat up, coughs wracking his body. He covered his mouth with his elbow, feeling his energy drain with each cough. Sam set his book down, rubbing circles on Dean's back and whispering comforting things. Dean sighed as the coughing fit ending, and he collapsed against the pillows. Sam watched him, sadness tugging at his heart at seeing Dean so miserable. 

          "You should go. I could get you sick." Dean rasped, throwing his arm over his eyes. Sam scoffed, leaning against the headboard. "I'm not leaving you, Dean. Especially not when you're like this." Was all Sam said, keeping his eyes on Dean. 

          "Whatever." He muttered, too exhausted to argue anymore. He fell asleep again seconds later, his arm still draped over his face. Sam watched him for a few moments, smiling. Then he went about doing what he could to get Dean better. Putting his favorite snacks next to him, getting more medicine, and getting Dean another blanket because he was shivering like crazy. Then Sam laid back down next to him, grabbing his book again. 

          Dean woke up a couple times over the next five hours, every time asking for Sam. Sam would grab his hand, showing he was here. Then, if it was time, Sam would give him more medicine and then let him go back to sleep. Dean ate a little bit of the snacks, but all in all, he really didn't have an appetite. By the time ten o'clock rolled around, both Winchesters were more than ready for bed. Sam crawled under the covers, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and pulling him close. Dean was like a sauna, but Sam didn't care. He needed Dean more than he needed to be comfortable. They both slept all through the night, Dean only waking up a few times by coughs and then instantly falling back asleep. 

 

          Sam woke up to the most delicious smell filling his nose, and he turned to look at Dean. But all he was met with was empty sheets. Sighing, Sam drug himself out of bed and walked to the kitchen. Dean was standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes and humming one of the rock songs he listens to in the car. He turned as Sam walked into the kitchen, smiling. 

          "Morning Sammy. Breakfast?" Sam smiled. Dean was back. 


	2. Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel!Sam X Dean!!!!!! (Also, sorry if this sucks but I'm listening to Hamilton and I'm crying so it's hard to write)

         Angels weren't supposed to feel. They weren't supposed to desire things, or love things, or feel happy. Obviously, Sam didn't get the memo. He was given the task to watch over a human, a hunter. Dean Winchester, to be exact. Sam remembered the first time he saw Dean. How odd it was. He had been in a motel room, on the thing the humans called a laptop. His green eyes were bright, from the reflection of the screen, and Sam was lost in them. There was so much pain within Dean, so much suffering, Sam found himself wanting to take Dean away from anything that would hurt him. He'd never felt this way before, hell, he'd never felt _anything_ before. He stood in the room, gazing at Dean who was humming some type of song. Sam didn't know.  

        Sam sat down opposite Dean, still not visible to Dean's human eyes. He watched Dean as the hours passed, and the hunter got more exhausted as time went on, yet he did not sleep. Whatever he was doing on that laptop thing must have been important. Finally, he shut the laptop and trudged over to his bed. Falling down on it, he pulled the covers up and closed his eyes. Sam didn't realize he was reading Dean's emotions until a painful sense of loneliness hit Sam harder than a train. Dean was lonely. He had been for a long time. Sam stood up from the table, walking over to where Dean was trying to fall asleep. Sam didn't know how Dean could sleep with all these emotions in him, but he did. Dean was lonely, and Sam wanted to fix that. 

 

/--------------------------/

 

      For two years, Sam watched Dean without Dean knowing. He fell in love with the man, the hunter, and he hated having to do Angel duties other than watch Dean. Sam wanted Dean to know who he was, know that he had been protecting Dean and staying with him for two years. Tell him that he wasn't, in fact, alone. But Sam couldn't. He may not always follow the rules Heaven gives him, but he always follows the one that forbids him from being seen by the hunter. Dean didn't even know Angels existed, and Sam wanted to keep him in that ignorant bubble of his. Sam's brothers and sisters weren't always the sweet beings they were supposed to be. 

     Dean, on the other hand, began to get lonelier and lonelier. His mom died when he was young, and his dad gave himself up to save Dean. He didn't have anyone, and it was crushing him. He'd had friends along the way- Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Pamela. But they had died, leaving Dean alone and more miserable each time. But he had a job, he had to save people, so he drowned himself in work and tried not to think about the hole in him where someone should be. Anyone. And Sam felt all of this, and he wanted nothing more than to take Dean's pain away by visibly being there for him, but he wouldn't do it. Not if it was worse for Dean in the long run. 

     So, Sam went on in the shadows, never allowing Dean to see him. And Dean went on suffering in silence, sometimes it getting so bad that he had to pray for anyone to come and be with him. So he wouldn't have to be alone. Sam snatched those prayers, making sure none of his siblings heard them. They were personal prayers, and his siblings would just mock Dean for being so weak. Dean wasn't _weak_ , and Sam wasn't going to give them a reason to ever even ponder that idea. 

 

     Dean was on a particularly nasty hunt, and it shouldn't be taken on alone, but who was Dean supposed to call for backup? So he went on the hunt anyways, doing the usual research before going to take on the monster. It was a vamp nest. That's right, a whole nest. And Dean was going alone. Literally. Sam was on a mission with one of his brothers, and he wasn't there to make sure Dean made it out alive. So Dean stomped into that abandoned building, machete in hand, and a can-do attitude. He instantly took down two vamps, but more were coming by the second. He got overpowered, and he was thrown to the ground so hard that he heard a crack and felt something warm drip from his head. Dean's vision got blurry, and he scrambled away from the vampires that were surrounding him. The head vamp snarled, flashing his sharp teeth threateningly. 

    "Dinner time." He told the other vamps, who grinned in return before stalking over to Dean. He murmured something along the lines of 'you stay away from me, you bloodsucking bitch' and kicked one in the face. Not that that did any good. Each vampire grabbed a different part of Dean, his leg, his hand, his wrist, his arm, you name it. And they all took a bite out of him. Dean would have screamed if he hadn't been so woozy from the head injury. They all drank his blood, and Dean was in so much pain that he let out an emotional wave, sending it right to Sam. 

    Sam, who was supposed to be tracking down a demon, was suddenly overrun with pain. _Dean_ , he realized with fear. And, without explanation, he left and flew to where the emotional wave had emitted from. The sight was awful. At least seven vampires huddled around Dean, all sucking him dry. He wanted to make all of them suffer, so that's what he did, he disintegrated each one agonizingly slowly. What he didn't realize was that he forgot to shield himself, so Dean watched him as he killed all the vamps with nothing but a flick of his wrist. Once all of them were dead, Sam crouched down next to Dean and pressed two fingers to his forehead. Dean watched in awe as all the pain disappeared. 

     "Are you alr-" Dean cut Sam off, pressing his lips to Sam's and tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. Dean kissed him because, one- he just saved his life, and two- the second Sam arrived Dean had felt the same presence he'd been feeling for two years. He finally knew that this was the person- Angel, demon whatever- that had been watching over him for two years. And Dean had hoped every single day that the presence would show itself, but it never did. Not until now, at least. Sam was shocked, he had not expected Dean to kiss him. But his feelings won over, and Sam kissed back. It wasn't until Dean's lungs were screaming for air that he pulled away, and he finally got to look at the thing that had been taking care of him for two years. Bright hazel eyes, mahogany chestnut hair that fell past his jawline, and pink lips that were now swollen from their kiss. 

      "Please tell me you aren't going to leave now." Dean said, and Sam let out a chuckle before shaking his head. He'd decided that, Heaven be damned, he wasn't going to leave Dean ever again. And both of them were pretty happy with that fact. Dean must have been really happy, because he leaned in for another kiss. 


	3. Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another AU because I hate myself. Prince!Dean x Stable boy!Sam.

       "Your highness, time to get up. Your parents are expecting you for breakfast." Dean's head servant, Castiel, announced as he threw the covers off of him. Dean groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Castiel was already in Dean's closet, picking out his outfit. All work and no play, that man. Dean yawned, standing up and stretching until his back popped. He took the clothes from Castiel, Cas as Dean called him, and quickly pulled them on. 

        "Why are you always in a hurry?" Castiel asked, watching Dean with curiosity. Dean tried not to show how much anxiety the question gave him. Castiel was the closest thing he had to a friend, but he couldn't trust him. Not with how much his parents snooped around. He wasn't going to tell Cas about Sam, not yet. "I'm hungry." Dean lied, finishing with his clothes. He turned to Castiel, letting him critique the prince before he was allowed to go to breakfast. 

         "Let me style your hair, then you can go." Castiel said, walking over and running his fingers through Dean's hair until it turned from bedhead to princelike. With an approving nod, Castiel sent Dean on his way. Dean walked into the dining room, sitting down at the table that was _way_ too big for just three people. He sat next to his mother, his father at the head of the table like always. 

          "Good morning, Dean." His mother, Mary, said with a kind smile on her face. Dean smiled back. "Good morning, mother. How did you sleep?" He asked like he did every morning, tucking the napkin into his collar. 

           "I slept well, thank you." It was always like this between the two of them, not able to talk like they wanted to talk while Dean's father was around. Dean tried not to eat hurriedly, because last time he did that his father made him stay another hour. Finally, breakfast was over and Dean was free to go until he had to sit in his father's meeting at noon. Dean jogged to the stables, a grin already spreading on his face as he saw the dark brown door. He crept in, making sure he was as quiet as he could be. Until he saw Sam. He had his back to Dean, brushing a white horse that Dean believed was named Lady. He tiptoed up behind Sam, standing up tall to cover Sam's eyes with his hands. 

           "Guess who." Dean teased, a smile on his lips. Sam paused from brushing, smiling as he instantly recognized the voice. He pursed his lips, pretending to think about it. "Hmm, could it be the love of my life?" Sam asked, and Dean chuckled before removing his hands. Sam turned to look at him, smiling. 

           "You're so romantic." Dean grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt, pulling him down until their lips met. It was a sweet, yet passionate, kiss- and neither could get enough. Sam grabbed Dean's thigh, picking him up which caused Dean's legs to wrap around Dean's waist. Dean's fingers tangled themselves in Sam's hair, pulling him closer than humanly possible. They moved as one, pulling, grinding, all in sync. 

           "God, I missed you so much." Sam panted against Dean's lips, and Dean let out a breathless chuckle. Dean had been overseas with his parents for a couple days with another kingdom, which resulted in the two of them being separated for awhile. 

            "Well, you don't have to miss me anymore." He said, unbuttoning Sam's shirt. Sam pressed Dean against the wall, kissing along his jaw and down his neck. Dean grunted, yanking Sam's shirt off.

*Timeskip because I'm too lazy to write the smut but I promise I'll make it up to you later*

 

            Dean rolled a piece of straw between his thumb and pointer finger, his head rested against Sam's chest who was pressing soft kisses to Dean's neck and shoulder.

           "You love me, right?" Dean asked, dropping the piece of straw. Sam's answer was instant. He didn't even hesitate, and that made Dean feel so happy inside he could have been a teenage girl. 

           "More than anything else in the world." Sam murmured against the skin right above Dean's collarbone. Dean shivered at the contact, his eyes flicking to their forgotten clothes strewn all about Sam's small room. Dean felt a pang of guilt as he looked around. He lived in a huge castle, with everything he could ever want, and servants waiting on his every desire. And all Sam had was this small room. 

           "I have an idea. A crazy idea, but still an idea." Dean announced, rolling over to look at Sam. The room was only lit by a single candle, but Dean had never seen Sam so beautiful. His hair was all mussed up from their extracurricular activities, his eyes reflecting the candlelight and his naked chest glistening with sweat. Dean loved him. Damn it, he loved him. And he couldn't stand the idea of ever not being with him. 

           "What's the idea?" Sam asked, caressing Dean's face. He brushed his thumb against his cheek, and Dean closed his eyes as a smile played on his lips. He almost forgot about the idea, but when he heard a horse neigh right outside, it came back to him. 

           "We run away. You and me, we just go and don't stop until we can live somewhere and be together." Dean suggested, opening his eyes. Sam stared at him for a second, no noise except for the neighing of the horses and their breathing. Dean's anxiety got worse by the second, scared that Sam would say no and that they wouldn't be able to be together. 

            "Please say something." Dean whispered. Sam cleared his throat, as if he were getting ready to launch into a long speech. 

             "Dean, you know I love you more than life itself, but-" Dean stood up quickly, cutting Sam off. He didn't want to hear Sam say that they couldn't do it. That they couldn't be together. He grabbed his clothes, pulling them on. Sam watched Dean, propping himself up on his elbows and his face filled with confusion. 

              "What are you doing?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head, grabbing his shoes and sitting down on a barrel to pull them on. 

              "It's okay, Sam. You don't have to explain," Dean didn't cry often, but in this moment he could feel his eyes stinging, "I understand. It was stupid to suggest it. I-I have to go." He stood up, running his fingers through his hair before turning towards the door. 

               "Dean, no. Wait." Sam pleaded, standing up and pulling his pants on. But Dean didn't wait. He threw the door open and jogged back to the palace, eyes brimming with tears and heart heavy. 

               Dean mourned the loss of Sam for days, not leaving his room and rarely even leaving his bed. He didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't even speak. And, every time his dad came in and screamed at him to get his life together he didn't even blink in his direction. News spread throughout the kingdom. The Prince was falling apart. 

                Of course, Sam heard the news, and it made him feel so guilty that he couldn't think straight. He wasn't going to tell Dean no about running away, he was just going to ask Dean if it was something he really wanted to do. He needed to make this right, and fast. 

                "Dean?" It was Castiel. His voice was quiet, as if he were scared if he talked too loud that Dean would snap. Hell, Dean probably would. "Dean. You got a letter. From someone named Samuel?" Dean perked up at the name, rolling over to face Castiel. Castiel handed Dean the letter, who then opened it and quickly scanned the sprawled handwriting. 

                  His face lit up, and he excused Castiel before jumping out of bed. He grabbed a bag from under his bed and set it down, smiling. He was running away, and he was going to be with Sam. 


	4. Taken

        Sam didn't know how long it had been. Days? Weeks? Months? There wasn't a way for him to tell. All he knew was that every day right when the sun hid away from the only window in Sam's cell the guard came in and threw some scrap of food at him. At first he hadn't touched the food, not giving into the hunger. But soon it became too much, and he felt like if he didn't eat he would wilt away to nothing. So this time when the door unlocked and the ample guard threw in a bowl of some kind of sludge, Sam scrambled from his spot in the corner and lunged for the food. He tilted the bowl up, pouring it down his throat in one needy swallow. Once he was finished, he threw the bowl away and crawled back over to the corner. It's not like he could walk- the ceiling was too low for someone as tall as him. 

        When Sam had first gotten here, he'd tried to find a way to escape. To get back to Dean. But as time went on, Sam kept losing faith until there was no more. There was no way to get out. He was going to die in this damn cell. He wasn't ever going to see Dean again. Was never going to be able to count those freckles again, or kiss those plump pink lips, or fall asleep to the sound of Dean's heartbeat. He was never going to be able to do any of that ever again. And it hurt. It hurt so much that Sam wanted to end his own life just to make it stop. 

         To say the least, Sam Winchester wasn't doing very well.

         Neither was Dean, for that matter. He knew exactly how long it had been since Sam had been taken. Two months, sixteen days, and three hours. And for all that time Dean had been trying to find out where he was non-stop. He'd barely slept, barely ate, and he was borderline psychotic. He was falling apart. Of course he was, he didn't even know if Sam was  _still alive._  

        Sighing, Dean held his head in his hands. His eyes were all jacked up from staring at a laptop screen for so long, and it was hard to focus due to the lack of sleep. He knew what Sam would say if he were even here, could even imagine the words in his voice. _'You need to rest, Dean. Do you want your body to shut down?'_ Letting out a thick chuckle, Dean scooted his chair back and stood up. He needed to get out of here. 

 

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

 

         "Sam Winchester, I have to say, the rumors have overestimated you." The woman snarked, pacing back and forth in the center of the room. They had finally moved Sam to his cell, but not permanently. He was just here for questioning and then back to that frustratingly small room. Sam didn't meet the woman's eyes, looking down at his dirty bare feet as a few pieces of greasy hair fell in his face. 

          "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" She asked, crouching down in front of Sam so she was right in his line of vision. He met her eyes, looking at her for the first time since he had been taken to this room. She was at least in her 40's, with a wrinkled face and blonde hair striped with grey. Her cold grey eyes stared at Sam, a smirk playing on her red lipstick painted lips. Still, Sam didn't say anything. Not like he could say anything, he didn't even know if he had a voice anymore, he hadn't spoken since he got there. Wherever  _there_ was. 

           "Sooner or later, you're going to have to talk. Even if we make you." She promised, standing back up and walking over to a shiny table with wicked looking tools on it. Sam watched her as she picked up a curved blade, turning it over in her hands as if it were a fruit and she was wondering if she should buy it or not. Her eyes met Sam's, a small smile on her lips. 

           "Now, let's begin." She started, sitting down in a chair and placing the blade in her lap, "Tell me about Dean." Sam's heart sped up at the name, and his arms strained against the binds keeping him to this chair. They knew about Dean, which meant they knew where he was, and they could find him. This was the first desire to fight Sam had had in a long time, and he was going to use it to his advantage. Clearing his throat, he glared at the woman. 

           "What about him?" He rasped, voice weak from lack of use. The woman's eyes glinted with glee, she'd finally found Sam's weak spot. The chink in his armor. She chuckled lightly, leaning forward. She tapped her pen against her clipboard, waiting to be filled with notes. 

           "Tell me about him. What he looks like, how he talks, what he eats, his sleeping habits. Everything." She explained, and Sam's face filled with confusion. Why did they want to know so much about Dean? Whatever they wanted, Sam wasn't going to give it to them. 

            "Where are we?" Sam asked. 

            "Tell me about Dean. What does he like to listen to?" 

            "Where  _are we_?" Sam's voice was menacing, a warning in it. If she didn't answer the question, bad things would happen. The hint of fear in her eyes hinted that she knew that very well. But she hid it the best she could. 

            "We're in Wichita, Kansas." She finally said, looking down at her clipboard. She jotted something down, but it was too far away for Sam to see. Something fluttered inside Sam. Wichita? That wasn't very far from the bunker. Why were they so close? What were they trying to do? A million questions filled Sam's mind, but he knew he wouldn't get answers to them yet. He needed to go about this the right way if he wanted to get out. 

            "Listen, I have a proposition for you and I think you'll like it." Sam began, instantly peaking the woman's interest. She smirked, leaning back in her seat and crossing her lanky legs. Sam almost grimaced, she could at least  _try_ to hide the fact that she found Sam attractive. 

           "Do tell." She prodded, and Sam sighed. "I will tell you what you want to know, if you let me be part of your little operation here. I'm going crazy in that cell, and I can't do it anymore. So, if you let me have an actual room with actual food and normal necessities, then I will do everything to help with whatever it is you do." Sam explained. He tried to make himself sound genuine, make her believe that wasn't a big fat lie. She seemed to take the bait.

           "You will?" She asked. Sam nodded, swallowing. Smiling, she stood up. Her high heels click-clacked against the white tile as she walked over to Sam. She waved her hand across a sensor and the binds on Sam's wrists and ankles unlocked. Sam slowly stood up, legs shaky. He really wasn't doing well. 

           "Welcome to the team, Sam. Follow me. We're going to get you settled and then I'll have someone explain what it is we're trying to accomplish here." She announced, before turning away and walking out of the room. Sam rolled his eyes, following. 

           After a shower and a real meal, Sam had felt much better than he had in a long time. He was finally able to shave, and they gave him a fresh pair of clothes. He was then taken to something that resembled a conference room, and he was told what he was supposed to do. Apparently, these people were trying to kill all the hunters in America because they thought they could do a better job. Dean was the first on their list. And that only fueled Sam's hatred for them. He was going to kill every single one of them, no matter what it took. 

          It was only a couple weeks later when Sam knew it was his time to escape. He'd gained the trust of nearly everyone there, and he was stronger than he'd ever been. Not to mention, he knew where they hid all their weapons. He started slow, killing the guards in the halls with a stab in the chest. Then he killed everyone in sight. Soon, it was only him and the woman who had questioned him. Sam's chest was heaving, blood covering him from head to toe, none of it his. She looked terrified, backing up until she hit the wall.

         "But I thought you were on our side!" She exclaimed, pressing herself as far back as she could. Sam walked forward, knife in hand. His eyes glinted with hatred, and he felt his blood boil as he looked at this woman. She was going to kill Dean, and Sam couldn't let that happen.

         "You thought wrong, bitch." He spat, before slamming the knife into her chest. She gasped, falling limp on the ground as blood stained the ground. Sam dropped the knife, turning and walking out of the building. He took one of the cars they had, and he drove as fast as he could back to Lebanon. After a very anxious car ride, he finally arrived back at the bunker. He threw the door open, practically running in as his heart beat at a thousand beats per minute.  

        "Dean?" He called, looking around. He could feel himself smiling. He was going to see Dean again. He was okay, and they would be together again. Dean ran into the room Sam was in, having instantly recognized the voice. His eyes landed on Sam and he gasped. Sam was here. He was really here. He was alive, and he was home. Then Dean realized he was covered in blood. Sam saw the worry in Dean's eyes, walking over until he was right in front of Dean. 

        "It's okay, Dean. I'm okay. The blood isn't mine." Sam whispered, and Dean looked up at him. Sam felt like he could cry he was so happy. They'd been apart for so long. But never again. Sam was never going to allow that to happen again. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Dean and wrapping his arms around him. Dean instantly kissed back, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair. Sam was back. They were together. It was okay, it was all going to be okay. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I low key have no clue where this idea came from, it just popped into my head. So.. I hope you enjoyed?


	5. Memories

“What is the worst pain you’ve ever felt?” The therapist asked Dean, like she did every time they had a meeting. Dean picked at the cotton of his robe, the one good thing he’d gotten when he had been checked into the mental hospital. 

“You already know the answer to that, doctor.” Dean croaked, looking down at the ugly red and brown patterned carpet of her office. He wanted to tear it up and set it on fire. The therapist tapped her pen against her clipboard, something she did a lot, Dean noticed. 

“Yes, Dean. I know. But I want you to tell me again. It’s the only thing I don’t know anything about. You tell me that losing your friend is the worst pain, but you’ve never told me more.” She explained, and Dean felt anger burn through his veins. He looked up at her, glaring. 

“His name’s Sam, and he wasn’t my friend. He was so much more than that.” Dean said, voice getting quieter towards that last bit. He looked back down at the floor, heart hurting at even having to say Sam’s name. 

“My apologies. Would you mind telling me about how you lost him?” She asked, and Dean didn’t have to look at her to know she was gazing at him with her inquisitive eyes. Dean shook his head, not physically able to talk about that just yet. 

“Alright. How about telling me how you met?” Dean sighed, that was an easier question. It wasn’t any less painful, though. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you how I met him.” Dean gave in, looking up. He sucked in a breath, preparing himself for launching into the story. “It was October 14, I was at the library.” Dean began. 

  
  


_ Dean searched through the shelves, not looking for anything in particular, just gazing. He wasn’t a big reader, but the librarian was hot, and he needed an excuse to get to know her. He peeked over a book about ancient myths to get another peek at her. She was helping a person, her long blonde hair pulled up into a bun. She was smiling kindly at the girl asking about a book, and Dean felt his heart melt a little. That  _ smile.

_ He quickly looked away as the librarian’s gaze shifted to where Dean was, and he continued pretending to look for a book. He felt stupid, going to a library just to check out a hot chick. He put the book he was fake looking at back, and took one last glance at the librarian.  _

_ “I don’t mean to pry, but are you checking out my girlfriend?” A guy asked from behind Dean, and he spun around in shock. The dude was tall, taller than Dean. He had shaggy brown hair that fell in his hazel eyes, and he was smirking.  _

_ “Y-you’re dating the librarian?” Dean asked, because that’s all that he could muster up. The guy laughed, then stopped because he remembered they were in the library. He nodded.  _

_ “I am indeed.” He confirmed, and Dean made a sound similar to ‘huh.’ Now he felt extra stupid. He just kinda stood there, trying to fight a blush as the librarian’s boyfriend looked at him.  _

_ “I’m Sam, by the way.” He told Dean. Dean nodded.  _

_ “I’m Dean. Sorry for checking out your girlfriend, she’s just really pretty.” Dean apologized, but Sam just shrugged it off.  _

_ “It’s fine. You’re not the first guy. Sometimes  _ I’m  _ even surprised I’m her boyfriend.” Dean chuckled at that, earning a smile from Sam.  _

_ “Well, I better go. I’m taking her out to dinner.” Sam said, jerking his head over to the librarian. Dean nodded, moving out of the way.  _

_ “Yeah, have fun.” Dean said, and Sam nodded before walking away. Dean watched his retreating back, he watched the librarian smile as he walked up, and he watched as they kissed. Dean felt a pang of jealousy, shaking his head before walking out of the library.  _

  
  


“So, you met the most important person to you because he caught you looking at his girlfriend?” The therapist asked. Dean looked up- this was the first time he’d heard anything remotely close to amusement in her voice. 

“Yes. I did. Is that funny to you?” Dean snapped, and her hint of a smile vanished. He had a very protective sense over that memory, and he wasn’t okay with anyone finding amusement in it. So maybe that made him belong in the loony bin, but he didn’t give a damn. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She said, scrawling something on her notebook. The more Dean went to her office the more he wanted to learn how to read upside down. Dean realized she looked kind of like Sam. With her tan skin, and her brown hair that was almost the same shade as Sam’s, but it was the eyes that tugged at Dean’s heartstrings. They were a bluish green, and they had the same sparkle that Sam’s had. 

“What happened next? When did you see Sam- or the librarian- again?” She asked, crossing her legs. Dean sighed. He couldn't talk about Sam anymore. It hurt too much. Sam was the one person that knew Dean better than he knew himself, and he had lost him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me forever, but I've had an extremely busy schedule lately. I'll do better. I promise. Love you!!
> 
> Also, if you want a continuation of this chapter, Lemme know. Thanks! XOXO


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